


Best Bet

by dionysus_bound



Category: The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Community: trope_bingo, Crossdressing, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 16:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dionysus_bound/pseuds/dionysus_bound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Losing a bet never felt so good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Bet

**Author's Note:**

> written for my trope_bingo card

_It’s perfectly normal to wear a costume to a con._

Despite the silent litany of self-reassurance, Stuart couldn’t help glancing around the cavernous exhibit hall while he stood in line for an autograph. He tugged self-consciously at the hem of his skirt as he checked to see if anyone was staring at him. Eventually he dropped his eyes back to the floor and let himself exhale the breath that had been caught between his ribs.

Okay, so not everyone was staring at him. In fact, hardly anyone even gave a second glance at the costume he’d been forced to where after losing a bet with Howard and Raj.

But every now and then, he caught someone staring a little too long. The looks ranged from confusion to amusement to a fascination he did _not_ want to think about.

Stuart tugged at the pleated skirt again but it stubbornly refused to cover more than just mid-thigh. Way too much freshly shaved skin was exposed between its bottom hem and the top of his knee high boots.

Skin that felt over-sensitized to every breeze and brush of fabric.

He’d made the mistake of asking Penny’s help with his costume. She’d insisted pantyhose wouldn’t go with the boots and skirt and Stuart had been naively relieved. Then she’d come at him with razors and creams and lotions.

He stilled smelled faintly of raspberry shaving foam and the chemicals from the self-tanner he’d been slathered with.

When she’d tried to take him shopping for some kind of cheerleader-panty-thing, he’d drawn the line. Black boxer briefs worked well-enough, thank you very much.

The top half of the outfit wasn’t so bad. He could do without the ruffles of the long sleeve white shirt but the black leather vest, cinched tightly at the waist actually made his shoulders look broader. He’d refused to stuff the shirt with falsies, but his chest still stung a little from the waxing Penny insisted was necessary not to ruin the deep V of the shirt and vest.

Thank god he didn’t have much chest hair to begin with. He’d embarrassed himself enough with the crying. One more strip and he probably would have passed out.

The various feminine tortures had been worth it though. If a bad bet meant he was going to meet the creator of his current favorite graphic novel dressed as the female protagonist, Stuart at least wanted to look as authentic as possible. Penny had even shaved his sideburns and put so much goop in his hair that he now had a tousled cap of curls. Thank god the character was a tomboy. Penny had let him get away with just a little eyeliner and some lip gloss.

The sheer size of the makeup case she’d dragged out of her bedroom had been enough to have him considering making a run for it.

It was a little disconcerting how feminine he’d looked when Penny had finally let him near a mirror. Except for the breasts, he looked exactly like Elspeth.

The line in front of him shuffled forward and he tottered a little unsteadily in his heeled boots to catch up.

_It’s perfectly normal to wear a costume to a con._ He’d keep repeating it as long as he needed to.

It didn’t matter that much what he was wearing, though. He was about to meet Xane Craft, creator of _Steampunk Bitch_. The art was real, gritty and visceral with moments of tenderness and vulnerability that made it that much more gut-wrenching. The story-lines were full of action and intrigue and deep character development.

Waiting in the interminable line, Stuart couldn’t help studying Xane Craft with an artist’s eye. His face was all sharp cheekbones and square jaw, shadowed by dark hair and dark eyes. His shoulders were wide and pulled a little at the dark cotton t-shirt stretched over them. The man looked more like an extra from prime time than an artist of graphic novels.

When he realized where his mind was wandering, Stuart straightened his shoulders and focused on how Craft interacted, instead. Each fan got the same smile, though the artist tried to keep the small talk as varied as possible. Stuart had to imagine three hours of being polite and friendly to complete strangers had to be exhausting.

When he got to the front of the line, the artist took the book then paused when he fully focused on Stuart.

Dark blue eyes traveled slowly from the top of Stuart’s head down to where his legs disappeared behind the table. Then Craft’s gaze flicked back up and he leaned back in his folding chair, Sharpie dangling forgotten from his fingers.

“Step back. Let me get the full effect.”

Stuart stepped to the side and back a few feet, heat curling in his cheeks. But Craft was smiling. A bright, real grin completely unlike the cookie-cutter smile he’d been offering tiredly to the autograph-seekers ahead of Stuart.

“Nice legs,” Craft said, then he leaned forward over the book. “Who should I sign this too?”

Stuart managed to stutter out the answer, tongue-tied and off-kilter. A few minutes later, he was out of line, clutching the novel and staring at the words scrawled across the page.

_Stuart, thanks for brightening my day -- X_

“So, how did meeting Xane Craft go?”

Howard asked, hint of giggle in his voice as he appeared at Stuart’s elbow. Raj was snickering right beside him

“Yeah, did meeting your idol blow up your skirt?”

Rolling his eyes at the mangled innuendo, Stuart carefully tucked the book away in his messenger bag before sneering at Raj.

“I thought you couldn’t talk around girls?”

“You’re not actually a girl, dude.”

“No, but there’s one right behind you.”

The smirked turned into a panicked frown as Raj’s eyes went wide and he twisted around like a dog chasing his tail.

Stuart and Howard were still laughing at him when Leonard and Sheldon showed up. Sheldon was already mid-rant about the inefficient use of space, the poor sight-lines and the non-compliant exits that the rest of them tuned out while they wandered through the tables, exhibitions and displays.

The rest of the day was actually kind of fun, once he stopped being so self-conscious about the costume. He even started enjoying the occasional leer or ogle.

Stuart didn’t get many compliments. He might as well take what he could get.

#

By the end of the day, Stuart could no longer ignore his bladder in favor of avoiding the embarrassment of using the men’s room in a skirt. As irritating as Sheldon was, taking his advice on which restroom to use was always a good idea. He always knew where the cleanest and least frequented toilets could be found. And which had a choice between paper towels and air-dryers.

Stuart was reveling in the clean, quiet atmosphere as he washed his hand. After a day of crowds and never-ending chatter, the silence of the empty bathroom was a blessing to his overworked ears.

Plus, he was grateful no one had witnessed the humiliating juggling act of trying to go while maneuvering his skirt out of his way.

The sound of the door opening was faint over the noise of the air dryer and Stuart turned his head to see who had invaded his sanctuary.

Xane Craft.

Who looked even better out from behind the table.

“You again, huh?” Craft asked, leaning back against the door and smirking. No doubt amused by the deer-in-the-headlights look Stuart knew he was wearing even without seeing his reflection in the mirror.

Tongue-tied, words seemed to tangle and catch in Stuart’s mouth. “Me, um… yeah. Me again. Hi.”

He dropped his hands, took several deep breaths that did nothing to steady his racing heart and turned to face Craft. The gaze was even more intense under the harsh fluorescent light.

“I have to ask,” Xane said, pushing away from the door and moving forward, not stopping until he was less than a foot from Stuart. “What made you decide to dress like Elspeth?”

“I, uh, lost a bet.”

“Figured.” Xane laughed and ducked his head. The movement brought his face closer to Stuart’s level. “I have to admire your commitment, though. You went all out.”

He turned his head even more, looking down Stuart’s body and the smirk fell away.

“You even shaved your legs.”

Stuart cleared his throat and he couldn’t quite look at Xane with the hot flush once again burning his face.

“Yeah, well, it was pointed out to me that Elspeth definitely wouldn’t have stubble.”

Xane laughed softly then looked up thoughtfully, dark blue peeking out from under his lashes. “So this is weird, and probably creepy, but… can I touch?”

“Touch?” The word escaped in a breathless rush. His tongue darted out to wet his lip and the waxy, unfamiliar taste of lip gloss did nothing to calm his nerves or diffuse the weirdness of the situation.

“Yeah…” Xane sounded as breathless as Stuart felt. “I always tried to get my ex to shave his legs but he wouldn’t. I’m just curious how it feels.”

“Ex? He?”

_Stupid._ Stuart sounded like an idiot, parroting back random words. Why was his mouth not listening to his brain?

Xane’s expression flattened and he took a large step back, the glazed heat falling back behind the professional mask.

“Wait!” This time, when his mouth ran ahead of his brain, Stuart found himself whole-heartedly agreeing. No one this hot had ever shown any interest in him before and, chances were, they never would again. Even for something as tame as a curious grope.

The backing up stopped, but Xane remained silent and the guarded look didn’t ease even a little.

“I haven’t… I’m not…” Stuart inhaled sharply then let the breath out slowly around the teeth sunk into his lower lip.

“You can touch,” he whispered, when he finally felt steady enough. “I want you to touch.”

“Yeah?” The real smile flashed again, bright and hopeful.

“Yeah.”

When Xane turned away, Stuart opened his mouth but had no idea what to say. Then he realized the artist was reaching for the ‘closed for cleaning’ sign. He stepped out of the bathroom, set the sign in place then shut and locked the door.

The breath escaped Stuart in a rush. Okay, this was probably going to be more than touching.

And, yet, his dick didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it was most definitely showing signs of interest when Xane closed in.

Not like it was his first time with a guy. Depending on how you defined _with._ In high school, Stuart and his lab partner had exchanged a few hand jobs since it seemed like no one else was ever going to be interested in touching their dicks.

This would be different. Considering Xane wasn’t an asthmatic math geek who stood barely five foot tall and was nearly as big around as he was tall. It was already a hundred times better.

Xane crowded right up against Stuart until his back hit the tiled wall. Then Xane bent a little, large warm hands settling just above Stuart’s knees.

All day, the slightest movement of air across the newly shaved skin had sent goose bumps and shivers over his skin. Every brush of the skirt had been a feather-light, unexpected caress.

Warm, strong fingers skimming slowly up the outside of his thighs lit up those nerves like the Fourth of July.

When fingertips met the edge of the briefs, they started skating back down to the knees. The next trip, the caress slipped up the front of his thighs, still at the agonizing pace that left Stuart trembling and leaning heavily into the wall for support.

The third trip, those sweet, torturing fingers explored his inner thighs. The pathetic whimper escaped Stuart, despite the tight grip his teeth had on his lip. His head tipped back, his eyes squeezed closed to shut everything but sensation and his legs spread of their own volition, making him feel like a wanton sacrifice.

Xane took the invitation, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses against Stuart’s exposed throat and letting his hand roam wild and free.

“Do you know how hot this is?” he whispered against Stuart’s ear, warm breath shivering across his skin. Another broken whimper was all he could manage in response.

Then that tantalizing mouth closed over his, demanding yet gentle. Hot, thick tongue slipped between his lips, fucking its way in with a provocative rhythm. The hands on his skin, moved faster, touched more, made him want to beg.

Stuart’s hands gripped hard at Xane’s bicep, holding onto something solid in the maelstrom of sensations unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

Then the hot, solid body pressing him back against the wall moved away, leaving cool air in its place. The mouth retreated, as well, leaving only fingertips pressed into the skin of his thighs to tell him he hadn’t imagined the whole thing.

He swallowed against the whine rising in his throat and forced his eyes open, though he really didn’t want to see the rejection he knew was coming.

But there was no rejection in Xane’s eyes. Not even any regret. Instead, they were glazed with a needy greed unlike anything Stuart had ever seen. At least, not directed at him.

And those blue eyes were looking up from where Xane had dropped to his knees.

Long, talented fingers tangled in the pleats of Stuart’s skirt, pushing it up a fraction of an inch before stopping.

“Can I…” Xane’s voice sounded as raw as Stuart felt and he paused, licked his lips and leaned closer. “I want… Can I?”

Hot breath penetrated both the fabric of the skirt and briefs and straight over Stuart’s already rock-hard, leaking dick. For a second, all he could do was nod vigorously, but Xane wasn’t looking at him. He seemed mesmerized by the spot where pale, smooth skin disappeared beneath black cotton briefs.

A hard swallow gave Stuart back his voice, if not any semblance of coherency.

“Yes! Anything. Yes. Please.”

A couple careful tugs and the briefs were gone. One hand bunched in the skirt and pressed it hard against Stuart’s stomach. The other hand wrapped tight and possessive around the base of his dick. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping not to embarrass himself too quickly.

A soft, open-mouth kiss pressed against the crease of Stuart’s thigh wasn’t what he was expecting and his eyes flew open to watch the reverent way Xane kissed a heated trail across his skin. The grip around his dick loosened and stroked almost casually, just enough to drive Stuart crazy, but not nearly enough to get him anywhere.

Talented lips drifted from his thigh to ghost over his balls, before a hot, wet tongue stroked over them with the perfect amount of pressure to force a broken sound out of Stuart. Xane’s chuckle vibrated against his skin and the hand stroking slid off his dick to press against his hip bone.

Wet, sucking kisses started at the base of his dick, moving inch by agonizing inch up the sensitive underside until that amazing mouth closed tightly over the head. Stuart felt like he was melting from the inside when Xane started sliding back down his length. The sensation surrounding his dick was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

Perfectly hot, perfectly tight.

Heat coiled, tight and hard, low in his stomach, it took every bit of self-awareness Stuart could cling to not to thrust, to let Xane’s mouth conquer him with slow, blissful torture instead of trying to get there himself.

And, oh, Jesus Christ, that was his throat, swallowing…

It was over with embarrassing quickness, though Stuart had no idea how long his brain hovered in the pleasure-blind space before slowly becoming aware of his surroundings again. Most of his weight was pressed against the wall, one hand pressed beside him to keep him upright. The other tangled tightly in the dark hair of the head still pressed against his thigh.

Stuart knew he should be doing… something. Offering… something. But he needed a second to catch his breath and untangle his thoughts. He could count the number of blow jobs he’d had in his life on one hand.

And after what Xane had just done, he wasn’t even sure any more that the first two even counted.

He loosened his grip on the hair wrapped around his fingers, and Xane opened his eyes, looking as lost as Stuart felt.

“You could…” Stuart tugged slightly to indicate Xane should maybe get off the bathroom floor. Then he waved vaguely down at the straining fabric of Xane’s jeans. “I could… I mean, I’ve never… but I’m willing to try. If you want…”

Xane smiled and stood up, one hand sliding carefully around the back of Stuart’s neck as his tongue invaded, once again conquering and claiming.

Stuart was a curious and lonely guy. He’d tasted himself before.

But never like this. Never on a hot, slick tongue that had just taken him apart with pleasure. The kiss was slower this time, less urgent, less demanding. And all the more intense for the way Xane seemed to be savoring him.

Eventually, Xane broke for air and sensations seeped into Stuart’s awareness. The feel of his skirt bunched uncomfortably high, the tug of boxer briefs around his ankles, a faint trail of wetness across his hip. He blinked down between them and realized, at some point, Xane had freed himself from the confines of his jeans and his dick brushed against Stuart’s skin with every breath.

Xane pressed their lips together in a quick kiss, and shifted so his dick slid fully between Stuart’s thighs. His hips thrust shallowly against Stuart before he whispered, “Is this okay?”

Stuart’s dick actually twitched in a vain attempt to rejoin the festivities and his mouth was speaking before his brain could process anything but _more, please._

“Yeah. Okay. Yeah.”

Xane rocked against him and the feeling was like nothing Stuart had ever experienced, his whole body pressing forward to feel it all. The scent of sex and sweat was heady and the feel of hands and breath and body against him was intoxicating. He floated on the sensations, lost in nothing but sensual overload until the of Xane’s pleasure-soaked moans shifted into needy growls.

Instinctively, Stuart tightened his thighs pulling a shutter and a moan from Xane.

“God. Yes. Perfect.” Xane murmured the words against Stuart’s lips and his body broke out of the controlled rhythm and pushed into greedy, jerky, uninhibited thrusts. A handful of seconds later, Xane stiffened pressed their hips hard together until warm heat pulse between them.

Xane’s head dropped to his shoulder and Stuart wrapped his arms around his waist in support, burrowing his face against Xane’s chest while they both shivered in the aftermath.

Stuart was pretty sure cuddling was poor bathroom hook-up etiquette, but Xane didn’t seem to mind.

Eventually though, they had to disentangle to clean up. Between the sink, the paper towels and the air dryer, they managed to look somewhat presentable if still wrinkled and little damp and tousled.

Awkwardly, Stuart turned toward Xane trying to figure out what to say before he left. Or if he should say anything at all.

But Xane stepped closer, curled his hands around Stuart’s neck. “Thank you.”

Stuart blinked in surprise a couple of times before blurting out, “Pretty sure it should be _me_ thanking _you_.”

Xane smiled and shook his head, brushing a soft kiss across Stuart’s forehead. It shouldn’t have been hot. It shouldn’t have nearly matched his earlier orgasm for intense experiences. But it was. And it did. Then Xane was unlocking the door and letting it shut behind him and the quiet of the bathroom once again engulfed Stuart.

He straightened his skirt and headed out to find his friends. Not even Sheldon’s bitching about disembarking eighteen minutes late could wipe the smile off Stuart’s face for the entire drive back.

And if the framed, signed copy of _Steampunk Bitch_ had a prominent place on his bedside table, well, he was never going to explain that to anyone.


End file.
